


A Prankster's Reward

by Rubynye



Category: Lord of the Rings (2001 2002 2003)
Genre: M/M, Nonmonogamy, Threesome Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-09
Updated: 2010-01-09
Packaged: 2017-10-06 01:26:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubynye/pseuds/Rubynye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pippin's been playing a lot of tricks; Merry and Frodo play a trick on him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Prankster's Reward

**Author's Note:**

> This is pure, unredeemed, unleavened hobbitsmut. I feel bad to write this, after the thoughtful stories I have tried to send out and the thoughtful stories I have to work on, but an image of Pippin popped into my head, an image you'll see later in this tale, and I was simply _forced_, I tell you, to write this bit of hobbitsmut. Forced by my subconscious, at any rate.

"I thought he'd have _less_ energy, Frodo!" Merry confessed in a dramatically quavering voice, and Frodo had to stifle a laugh. Pippin and Merry had become lovers in the flesh that past summer, which Frodo for one wholeheartedly approved of, not least because he thought it might steady his flighty young cousin a little. In some ways it had; Pippin and Merry might tease and wrestle as much as ever, but Pippin knew when Merry was looking at him, and he looked at Merry the same way. However, in other ways, Pippin was even wilder.

With the coming of spring Pippin had gone on a rash of practical joking that astounded even Merry, though Frodo thought that might be largely because so many of the jokes involved Merry as victim rather than as co-perpetrator. Pippin put frogs in cream and sleepers' hands into warm water, weakened his sister's bodice laces, switched pipeweed for tea, booby-trapped nearly every door he could, and replaced Frodo's ink with stuff that vanished as it dried, not once but twice.

And to Merry...

"So there I was," Merry said in injured tones, his head on Frodo's bare shoulder (and Pippin sound asleep in the next bedroom), "with Gilly's head on my shoulder and her hand on my knee" --- Frodo snorted, having a good guess where hands and heads more likely were; Merry glared at him, and he kissed Merry's cheek apologetically and nodded for him to continue---"and up he pops! Gilly screamed the whole way back to the Hall! And I couldn't even strike him, because he's, well, he's Pippin!"

"Oh, Merry," Frodo managed before he burst into laughter; Merry glared again, and when Frodo didn't stop laughing, tickled him unmercifully until they were both breathless, and then kissed him as thoroughly as if he were trying to gift his own breath to Frodo. "Ah, you are so unsympathetic," Merry sighed into Frodo's ear, his husky tone and tongue tracing Frodo's eartip quite belying the words.

Frodo laughed breathlessly, leaning into the caress of Merry's mouth, which was trailing down the side of his face. "I think I have an idea of what we might do to Pip in return."

"Hmm, what, and does it involve a bed?" Merry asked, his voice muffled by Frodo's throat; Frodo moaned and wound his hands in Merry's hair and took a deep breath before he could speak again. "Oh, yes, a bed, and rope, or scarves if you'd rather."

Merry lifted his head at that, looking surprised and intrigued; Frodo grumped at the loss of lips on his skin and quickly laid out his plan. Fortunately, Merry's reaction to the plan was delightfully enthusiastic, and definitely involved his mouth as well as the rest of him.

 

 

Two days later, or rather a bit less, it was Pippin and Merry in Frodo's bed; Merry had replied to Pippin's insistent demand for some of his after-supper strawberries by feeding him one, so Pippin had fed him one, and things had gone from there. Frodo had vanished shortly after supper, saying he was taking a walk, so Pippin hadn't resisted when Merry drew him into Frodo's bedroom rather than their guest bedroom; besides, as he cheerfully noted, the comforter Frodo currently had on the bed was vibrant red anyway, so they didn't have to worry about the strawberry juice getting everywhere.

"I don't, ooh, remember this quilt, actually," Pippin mused breathlessly as Merry licked and nipped his way up his neck. "Where, ah, _there_, yes, do you think it, mmm, came from, Merry?"

"I think you should kiss me," Merry replied, and gently bit Pippin's earlobe. Pippin giggled and forgot the quilt and turned to kiss Merry, sliding his hands up Merry's bare back to twine his arms round his neck. Merry growled a little and reached up to grasp Pippin's hand and press his wrist down to the bed, and Pippin arched into the restraining grip, feeling Merry's strength against his; Merry grasped the other hand and pinned it as well, leaning on Pippin's arms as he growled again and kissed Pippin ravishingly, diving between Pippin's lips with his tongue. Pippin growled back, and giggled, and tangled his tongue with Merry's, not knowing where this fierce mood had come from to overtake his usually playful Merry, but enjoying it regardless.

Then he felt something soft and solid loop round one wrist and pull firm, and he froze. Merry kept kissing him nevertheless, and Pippin tried to lift his other hand to help himself push away, only to realize he couldn't move that hand either. Pippin let out a surprised squeak, and only then did Merry lift his head, to give Pippin that triumphant smile---

\---that he wore when he'd successfully pulled off a trick.

"Merry?" Pippin asked, in a voice that was supposed to be firm but came out sounding thin and worried; Merry merely wiggled more firmly between his legs and smirked at him. Pippin tilted his head back to see what was holding his hands, but stopped in mid-tilt as he found himself looking at a lean, familiar belly. His gaze rolled up, over a velvety-skinned chest and elegant collarbones, a long neck framed by dark curls, and up to Frodo's face, which wore a very, very similar smirk to Merry's. From what Pippin could see, that was all Frodo was wearing. "Hullo, Pip," Frodo said.

"Frodo! But---what---hoy!" Pippin started struggling in earnest now, tossing his head back to see that pale soft rope was wound round his wrists, binding them to the carved bars of the bedhead. "Untie me!" He tried to kick, but Merry was already leaning on one leg, and Frodo caught the other. "What are you two on about?"

"I told you we should gag him," Frodo said conversationally to Merry, who tilted his head invitingly as he replied, "but he has such a pretty mouth"; Frodo smiled and leaned towards him. "Hoy!" Pippin shouted again as his cousins kissed, paying him only enough attention to keep his legs pinned. "All right! Whatever it is I won't do it again! Now untie me!"

They stopped kissing, but only for Frodo to nuzzle Merry's ear and whisper something in it which Pippin couldn't catch, which made Merry laugh. "Merry, please!" Pippin pleaded, and he thought he perhaps saw Merry's eye flick to him, between one blink and the next, but then Merry kissed Frodo again, and all the while they kept holding Pippin's legs, even when he arched his back and tried to buck them off.

Pippin collapsed against the damnable red quilt, panting. He was helpless, and his cousins were kissing each other, and they were _ignoring_ him. "Merry? Frodo?" he asked in a small, tremulous, contrite voice, and finally they looked at him again; at least they were noticing him now, even if they were still smirking. "Pippin," Frodo said, in an odd version of his _will-you-behave-sweetheart?_ voice, "if I let go of your leg do you promise to not kick me?" Pippin started to nod, but Frodo raised one eyebrow, and he managed to gasp, "Yes, Frodo, I promise"; Frodo got up off his leg and leaned forward on the bed to stroke Pippin's cheek. "You never ever noticed me beneath the bed, did you?" he asked, smiling wickedly, and Pippin could only shake his head.

"Pip, if I let go, do you promise not to kick me?" Merry eased a bit of his weight off Pippin's leg as he spoke; Pippin tried to regard Merry sternly, which was rather difficult from flat on his back with his hands tied to the bed, as he replied, "Yes, I promise, even though you deserve to be kicked." Merry laughed at that, and leaned forward, pulling off his breeches, then planting his hands on either side of Pippin's chest. "Poor Pippin", Merry said cheerfully as Pippin attempted to glare up at him; it was too hard not to smile into those familiar grey eyes, so Pippin shut his own, turning his head when he felt Merry lean closer. "Don't kiss me," Pippin said somewhere in the vague direction of Merry's descending warmth. "I'm cross with you."

Merry paused for a moment, then continued leaning forward, and Pippin tensed and shut his mouth tightly, steeling himself to resist no matter how wonderfully Merry kissed him. However, Merry veered slightly and laid his face to Pippin's neck, licking him where his throat joined his shoulder, then slowly biting him.

"Ah!" All of Pippin's resolve melted into the wet heat of Merry's mouth, the gradually tightening teeth sending shocks of painful, rousing pleasure all through his body. Somewhere beyond the roar of his blood in his ears, Pippin heard Frodo chuckle, then felt him climb onto the bed, undoing Pippin's braces and breeches and drawing them off, but Pippin couldn't spare much thought to being undressed when most of his mind was awash in the feel of Merry atop him, straddling him, warm and firm and strong, now sucking on the bite, and how his arms strained against the soft ropes as he writhed and moaned and wished he could sink his hands into Merry's hair.

Merry leaned back, putting his weight on his knees on either side of Pippin's waist. "Still cross with me, Pip?" he asked, and Pippin did have to yield him this triumph. "I would be," Pippin replied with as much dignity as he could scrape together, considering he was flushed and panting and about as hard as he could be up against Merry's backside, "if I could remember why I ought to be." Frodo and Merry both laughed at that, and Merry leaned down to kiss Pippin warmly, sliding sideways to lie beside him, arms twined round him.

"So, Pip," Frodo said, sitting beside Pippin's head and starting to undo his shirt buttons, "you asked us what we were about, tying you up like this."

"I hope you enjoy the rope," Merry put in as he tweaked one of Pippin's nipples, provoking a yelp. "We asked Sam to get us something suitable. Of course, considering the fake weeds of green paper you planted in his new flowerbeds…."

"Sam?" Pippin cried, or rather, squeaked, being still breathless from the nipple tweaking. "He's not under the bed too, is he?"

Frodo laughed so hard at that he nearly fell off the bed; Merry had to reach over Pippin and grasp his wrist to save him. "Oh, no, no, Sam isn't joining this little party, no."

"In fact he looked a bit scandalized to hear of it." Merry giggled. "Muttered something dark and disapproving about Brandybucks."

"Oh, he may sound disapproving, but he laughed before he left." Frodo turned his amused blue gaze back to Pippin, who looked helplessly back up at him. "And we still haven't told you why you're tied up."

"Is it those paper weeds?" Pippin asked, twisting his wrists a bit. The rope was soft, but firm, and the loops held true. "I won't do it again, I promise, and I did apologize---"

"Laughing the whole time," Frodo said, tapping a fingertip on the point of Pippin's nose. "And you jellied the cider, and finished off all the gelatine, and you replaced my ink with disappearing ink, and poor Pearl's bodice lace burst when she was dancing. Furthermore, you've become very dangerous indeed to unsuspecting drinking partners."

"And I would have gotten to tup Gilly if you hadn't scared her off," Merry added in wounded tones. "By the time I left Brandy Hall she _still_ wouldn't talk to me. "

Frodo reached over Pippin to stroke Merry's hair. "So we decided to teach you a lesson," he concluded, "about how it feels to have a trick played on you."

"It certainly was a grand trick," Pippin agreed. "I see your point, and I promise to behave better."

"That's lovely, Pippin," replied Merry, as he tweaked the other nipple, and Pippin squealed again, "but we aren't untying you. Not until were satisfied. "

Well, then. Pippin stopped twisting his hands and resigned himself to the situation, grasping the ropes that crossed his palms on their way to looping round the bars of the bedhead, feeling them comfortably holding him down, almost like Merry's hands had before. This might not be so awful, he thought, looking up at Frodo, amused and aroused, and then over at Merry, wickedly, hungrily smiling. "What do you want?" Pippin asked as innocently as if Merry's hand weren't dancing up and down his hard flesh.

Frodo laughed, and leaned down to kiss him, as Merry whispered in his ear between licks, "Pippin, what do I ever want? You, of course."

That was the end of conversation for awhile. Merry and Frodo were too busy using their mouths on Pippin, biting him and licking him and sucking on him, trading his mouth between them in ravishing kisses, and Pippin was too busy moaning and gasping and pleading for more, writhing and clutching his bonds and pleading to be untied so he could touch Merry and Frodo. Every time he asked that, Merry and Frodo would lift their heads, smirk at each other, and redouble their efforts to reduce Pippin to incoherence.

For some strange reason, Pippin came to a moment of lucidity when he nudged the back of Merry's throat, with Merry's tongue curling round him, Merry's hands pressing down his hips and teasing him underneath; Frodo was tucked up against Pippin's side, all but inside his shirt with him, and was sucking on the spot beneath Pippin's ear where jaw melded into neck, one hand in his hair and one on his chest. Pippin felt himself trembling, arching and suspended, as time slowed for a moment, till he could feel each individual finger of the twenty on his skin, feel Frodo's heart beating against his side and his own pulse between Merry's lips, feel Merry's warm breath over wet curls and Frodo's nose nuzzling into his hair. Pippin felt all this in one endless, fleeting moment; then Frodo lifted his head, and smiled, and kissed Pippin, thumbing his nipple, just as Merry trailed his teasing fingers down further and wriggled them between. Pippin gasped into Frodo's kiss, and time lurched forward with the racing of his heart, sweeping him up into delirious, spiraling delight.

Frodo drew back a little, sucking on Pippin's lower lip, and Pippin tried to gasp out words, but he was too close, all he could do was moan; his cousins could feel his body tensing with the rising urge, and they were relentless. Frodo covered Pippin's mouth with his own, and Merry sucked harder, and the song of Pippin's blood rose to a scream as he writhed against the embrace of the ropes round his wrists and Merry holding down his hips, until that scream burst forth from him as his peak exploded within him for an all too brief infinity.

Eventually Pippin sank back down into himself, rediscovering his gasping, shaking, bliss-filled body, warmly embraced by two handsome dear hobbits, as if he were only newly inhabiting it. Pippin's head lay cradled in the crook of Frodo's arm, Frodo's other hand over his heart, while Merry lay with Pippin's legs draped over himself and his head propped up on one hand. "Pip, love?" Merry asked, his other hand gently stroking Pippin's belly, and Pippin managed to make some sort of pleased sound in reply.

"Don't go to sleep," Frodo teased, kissing Pippin's closed eye. "We're not done with you yet." Pippin forced up heavy eyelids to regard Frodo indignantly. "I--" Pippin began hoarsely, then coughed and swallowed and tried again. "I am quite awake, just let me catch my breath. And untie me."

"Aww, Pip, don't you like not having to do any of the work?" Merry leaned over to kiss Pippin's chest as he wriggled up to lie alongside him, smoothing Pippin's shirt out of the way so he could press skin to skin. "You should see yourself, how you look, flushed and wriggling and arched like a bow. Besides, with your hands safely tucked up here you can't pinch me."

"Or run off and hide the clothes," Frodo agreed, trailing his fingers up over Pippin's collarbone. Pippin snorted with feigned indignation, the best he could manage for a retort while the aftermath of his peak still pleasantly hazed his mind and four hands danced over his skin. After all, it wasn't as if he could kick Merry and Frodo, even if they hadn't been wound around one leg each, poking him in both hips.. Pippin wriggled a bit, just feeling them around him, and Merry leaned over him to kiss him. "See what a state you've put us in?" Merry whispered over Pippin's mouth, as Frodo reached over to stroke both their ears.

"I've put you in?" Pippin whispered back as the familiar heat spiraled up within him again. "I haven't even laid a hand on you, by your own doing." He made a show of tugging at his bonds, and Frodo chuckled and softly bit his shoulder, as Merry mercilessly stroked his chest, nipple to nipple and back again. "Yes, Pip, you have, and that's your best trick of all," Merry murmured just before pressing his mouth to Pippin's again.

With the first edge taken off his arousal Pippin could manage to be a bit more present this time, could manage to not have all his consciousness swept away by pleasure. He kissed Merry back as boldly as he could from his prone position, feeling Merry's lashes flutter against his face as he sighed into the kiss and pressed it deeper. Pippin hooked his leg over Merry's, drawing his toes up Merry's ankle and calf and thigh, Merry squirming against him the whole time, before winding that leg round his waist to draw him close; Merry moaned at that, so hard he was starting to drip against Pippin's belly, and Pippin would have smiled if he could. Mayhap he didn't need his hands for this after all.

Frodo made an appreciative noise as he watched them, his fingers playing in their hair, before sitting up and rolling off the other side of the bed. Pippin briefly considered trying to break away to see where Frodo was off to, but Merry ran teeth gentle-roughly over his upper lip and claimed all his attention; there was rummaging going on, somewhere beyond the little world of Pippin and Merry entwined on the bed, but Pippin paid it hardly any heed as Merry's arms slid round him, hands lightly raking down his back to cup his backside, and he wound his other leg round Merry's waist.

Frodo returned to sit on the bed by Merry's legs. "The impatience of youth," he said, prodding Merry in several places until Merry released Pippin's mouth and looked up at him. "Frodo, what---oh, oh yes. Definitely, yes! Thank you!" Pippin turned his head to see what had pleased Merry so, but his view was blocked as Merry rose up a bit and Frodo leaned down and they kissed, long and deep. Pippin watched them, his dear beautiful cousins, kissing each other, and felt fire dancing beneath his skin.

Then Merry rose up to kneel over Pippin, cool air swirling over heated flesh, and Pippin made a protesting noise and tried to pull him down again with his legs; Merry laughed and fell, but caught himself on extended arms, holding himself up off of Pippin. "Merry, come back here!" Pippin complained, wriggling against him.

"But Pippin, I need a chance to use this." He tilted the item in his hand a bit, and Pippin glanced over at it; it was a little jar of salve. "Oh!" Pippin breathed, looking up into Merry's love-dark eyes, then over at Frodo, smiling fondly at them both and idly stroking himself. "But, but"

"But what, Pip?" Frodo asked, leaning on one hand and lifting the other to run it over Pippin's lips. Pippin licked the fingers moving slowly over his mouth, tasting Frodo on them, and wanted more. He had to take a very deep shuddery breath before he could talk. "But what about you, if Merry is going to tup me?"

"Ah, Pippin, I'm glad you asked." Frodo's smile went from fond to naughty, as Merry leaned down to lick Pippin's ear before pushing himself up to sitting again. "After all, you _do_ have a pretty mouth." Frodo leaned down, and Pippin pursed his lips for a kiss, but Frodo merely brushed his lips against Pippin's, brushing them over his chin and throat and jaw and brow as he whispered low and hot against Pippin's skin. "Would you like that, Pippin? Both of us at once, Merry tupping you, your mouth on me? Caught between us, feeling both our pleasures at once? Would you like that?"

"Yes, oh yes," Pippin heard himself gasping, indeed wanting nothing else in all the world at that moment, feeling he just might burst from Frodo's words alone, but above him Merry cleared his throat. "Um, that's quite the picture, Frodo, but it might be a bit much for him." Frodo pulled back a moment, his hand on Pippin's cheek, to look at him, and Pippin saw the look in his eyes go from glittering to warmth. "I suppose you're right, Merry," Frodo sighed, and kissed Pippin's brow, then sat up. "It would be a bit much."

Disappointment clashed with desire within Pippin. "No!" he insisted, bucking up enticingly against Merry, who gasped and nearly dropped the pot of salve. "No, I want it. I want you, both of you." Merry and Frodo both looked at him, their eyes round; they looked at each other, then at Pippin again. "Are you sure?" Merry asked, his hand over Pippin's heart, holding Pippin's eyes with his. Pippin swallowed, feeling as if he might fall up into Merry's eyes were he not bound to the bed, and nodded; before things could slide too far towards seriousness, he feebly added, "even without my hands I'm a match for you both," which made Merry laugh and lean down to kiss him again.

Frodo leaned down to kiss them both. "So, how shall we arrange this so no one gets kicked or elbowed?" A little wriggling and arranging, and one near-miss with Frodo's foot and Merry's head, and Pippin was lying on his side, his head in Frodo's lap and Merry behind him.

"Are you sure you don't want to untie me?" Pippin asked while he could still speak, mostly to hear Frodo and Merry laugh; Merry bit him gently at the nape of his neck, laughter vibrating through his mouth into Pippin's flesh, as Frodo stroked his cheeks. "You know I can do quite well with my hands to help."

"Ah, but I think you can do well without your mischievous hands, Pippin Took," Frodo replied, slowly drawing a finger over Pippin's mouth. "And you're not getting untied till we've both peaked."

"If you don't do well you'll stay here," Merry threatened in a husky voice, his hands covered with salve and full of Pippin's backside, "and we'll just come and feed you strawberries every so often."

"It would keep you from playing any more jokes," Frodo agreed, winding his hands in Pippin's curls to help guide his head. _I should bite you_, Pippin thought lovingly, unable to speak anymore.

Sideways and without his hands wasn't as difficult as Pippin might have thought; Frodo certainly sounded as if Pippin were doing well, as he moaned and murmured, "yes, Pip, yes," his fingers trembling in Pippin's hair, not pressing or pinching, just lightly holding. When Merry wiggled one finger in Pippin gasped and moaned, and Frodo felt Pippin's moan and moaned in response; Merry heard that and moaned himself, face buried in Pippin's hair, and Frodo slid one hand forward through Pippin's curls to stroke Merry's cheek. It was like a loop, Pippin absently thought as he drew circles with his tonguetip and Frodo made a happy choked sound, a loop connecting the three of them. Then Merry added another finger, and Pippin stopped thinking and closed his eyes and just felt.

Pippin felt the rope circling his wrists and clutched in his hands as he hung onto it because he couldn't clutch his cousins. He felt Merry's hands on his waist, Merry's lips on the back of his neck, as Merry tried to enter him slowly and Pippin growled impatiently and bucked backwards, feeling the pain, knowing the pleasure that came after it. He felt Frodo's fingers in his hair tensing till they went rigid, as Frodo gasped, "oh, you two--!", the words shading up into a moan as his whole body pulsed, sticky saltiness against the back of Pip's tongue. Pippin trembled, flushed with heat from two directions, and concentrated against the wonderful distraction of Merry filling him and moaning in his ear, and swallowed and sucked, caressing with his tongue, until Frodo's trembling eased and he chuckled breathlessly and gently pushed Pippin's head off his lap; Pippin settled his head on his arm and blinked up at Frodo, who smiled proudly down at him and leaned down to kiss him. "I knew you'd do well," he whispered against Pippin's lips, sliding down to lie against Pippin's front, kissing his way across Pippin's jaw to kiss Merry's panting mouth. "Your turn," Frodo whispered as his fingers curled around Pippin, who briefly wondered which one of them Frodo meant; then Merry bit him on his shoulder and started to pump harder, and when Pippin cried out Frodo caught his mouth in a warm damp kiss, and Pippin was beyond wondering about anything.

"Pippin, Pippin," Merry was moaning, his mouth roaming Pippin's shoulders, his hands tight on Pippin's waist; "Yes, Pippin," Frodo was whispering against Pippin's lips, his hand stroking as Merry's hips rocked Pippin back and forth. _There_ Pippin thought, _yes, there_, and the loop of pleasure arced through them, higher and brighter on each pass, and Pippin went up and over, feeling Merry peak with him, feeling himself cry out into Frodo's kiss.

When Pippin came down again it took him a moment to realize that the ropes he was holding had gone slack. He opened his eyes and blinked in surprise at the darkness; the twilight had faded and the candles had burned out, leaving only the fire to dimly light the room. Frodo was snuggled against his front, Merry against his back; Pippin drew his arms down slowly, and Frodo opened his eyes and smiled and reached to untie the ropes from his wrists and rub his shoulders. "How are you, sweetheart?" Frodo inquired.

Pippin thought for a moment. "Sleepy. Wonderful! Hungry. Merry, Merry?" That last was directed over his shoulder at what appeared to be a soundly asleep lump of Brandybuck; Frodo laughed softly and kissed Pippin's cheek. "You sound fine." More sternly, but with eyes twinkling in the firelight, Frodo added, "are you going to keep playing so many tricks?"

Pippin wound his freed arms around Frodo. "If I do will you do this to me again?" Frodo considered that for a moment, before finally replying, "no"; Pippin pouted, but before he had a retort Merry mumbled "Pippin, how in all the Shire are you still talking? Go to sleep."

Frodo laughed softly at that, and leaned over Pippin to kiss Merry's cheek, and kissed Pippin on the mouth, and yawned. "Keep talking if you like," he advised Pippin, "but I am going to sleep." Pippin would have wrinkled his nose at that if he hadn't been yawning, and, well, he was rather tired, and he could eat in the morning. Snug and warm between his cousins, Pippin closed his eyes.

 

 

Pippin awoke on his back with Frodo's arm draped over his stomach; the red comforter was pulled up and wrapped around them both, and the sun was bright outside, and Merry was apparently already up. He wriggled and stretched, which made Frodo open one eye. "Good morning!" Pippin said brightly, kissing Frodo's brow; Frodo shut the eye, withdrew his arm from Pippin's waist, and rolled over.

"The sun's up!" Pippin continued cheerfully, nuzzling Frodo's hair. "It looks like a beautiful day, and Merry is already up, and I'm hungry!" Frodo grunted. "Would you like for me to get up and see to breakfast?"

That last got Frodo to sit up. "Peregrin Took," he grumbled, rubbing his hand over his face, "don't you dare touch my kitchen." Pippin merely smirked, and called "I love you, too," as Frodo climbed out of the bed and belted on a robe, then opened the door----

\----and a wooden cup fell on him, covering him from head-curls to foot-curls in water and feathers. Pippin stuffed a hand into his mouth, which almost muffled his squeak, as Frodo stood there, dripping and down-covered, his mouth open. Finally, Pippin ventured, in a small voice, "it's not me, I woke up with you."

Frodo shut his mouth. Another moment, and a giggle resounded from far down the hall, and Frodo was off and running, yelling, "Merry Brandybuck, I have more rope!" Pippin fell over back onto the bed, kicking his feet and laughing.


End file.
